


In Your Lane

by MadamRed, venom_for_free



Category: SK8 the Infinity (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Related, Confessions, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, First Kiss, Friendship, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, One Shot, Pining, Relationship(s), Romance, Sad, School, lots of regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29989284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamRed/pseuds/MadamRed, https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/pseuds/venom_for_free
Summary: Reki is still not talking to him, so when Langa's board breaks, it's as if the last thread keeping them connected snaps, too.Can Langa fix this? Is his presence welcome even? With a new threat outside of 'S', Reki's absence in his life is all the more noticeable.Or, Langa's board breaks, Reki doesn't seem to need him anymore and Langa finally understands what makes his heart beat as loudly as it does.
Relationships: Hasegawa Langa/Kyan Reki
Comments: 53
Kudos: 456





	In Your Lane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yooyooly07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yooyooly07/gifts).



> For Yooly, who we yelled with a LOT on Twitter and who planted the idea of Reki's friend returning deep into our brains.
> 
> Takes place after episode nine. ♥

It takes Langa three days to work up the courage to talk to Reki after the unthinkable happened and his board broke. 

He can't explain it to himself because … it shouldn't have been like this. Not the board breaking. Skateboards crack when they are under constant pressure, just like everything else. Yet Langa can't help but feel like more things broke that day than just his board. 

Wandering the hills and paths of 'S', he did his best to find Reki, his Reki. Where was his Reki? Then Adam spoke and he was distracted and … Langa learned later on that this was the moment Reki slipped away. The bouncers tell him, once he’s combed every other part and has to admit to himself that his former best friend is gone. It makes no sense. Why would he come to see Langa skate, reawaken the fire in his heart, bring back his love for skating and winning, and then just … leave?

He can't figure it out, at least not without talking to Reki. Which is exactly why it makes zero sense to wait three entire days. Friday, after 'S', Saturday, and Sunday. By Monday, Langa finally approaches Reki again, even though he was nothing but cold the last times he tried. And alright, he fucked up, Langa is aware, but … he didn't beef with Adam, so … this should be fine, right? He didn't break their promise. 

Once he explains the situation to his best friend, Reki will doubtlessly understand. Yes. It's just a communication issue and Reki is very good at communicating! They will talk it out and things will go back to how they were and all Langa's gotta do is to talk to him after school. 

That never happens, though. When Langa enters the classroom, his eyes roam to focus on his best friend the second he spots him and—wait. What is this?  _ Why _ is this? 

Langa pushes through the rows of students, not as gentle as they would have liked, if their muttered complaints are anything to go by, but—he can't hesitate. Can't allow himself to lose his energetic wind under ruffled wings or he might never speak up because pain is already threatening to silence him. 

"What's going on?" Langa points at the other guy in his chair, next to his Reki, seemingly trying to take his place in more ways than one. "You're in my spot." 

"Your spot?" The guy grins up. "I don't think so. You've been reassigned to sit over … there." He points at another seat across the classroom. 

Langa isn't a violent person. But he's determined and sometimes, there's a larger overlap than he would like. "This is my seat and—" 

The bell rings and he doesn't get to finish the sentence. It doesn't help that the guy just grins at him and points across the room. Their teacher clears his throat. 

"Mister Hasegawa, would you mind?" 

And yes, talking back is considered rude, but … what is he supposed to do? "This is my spot!" 

Behind him, the new guy laughs, so Langa spins and catches him just when he has the nerve to turn to Reki. "Does he always sound like a broken record?" And that's when the worst thing Langa can think of happens. Reki huffs out a little laugh. He's laughing. About Langa. About Langa trying his best to be close to him. Defeat is a sensation that starts in the lower gut, then spreads out further, crawling through his veins into every part of his limbs, every part of his being, every bit of him. Langa is choking, but he can't make a sound. Instead, he slumps into the free chair. Far away from his Reki, far away from everything and everyone. 

He misses most of the guy's introduction. A new student, that's all Langa gets, not even a name. He doesn't want to name the evil sitting in his heart, boiling like pitch black lava with tentacles reaching into every happy feeling he so desperately needs. 

During their break, Langa learns why he's so familiar with his Reki. They've met before. Liked each other before. And worst of all, skated together. Langa never asked what happened to the friend Reki mentioned when they made their promise. Stupid Langa. He should have. Maybe, if he thought less about Adam and more about his Reki, he would still be in his seat right now. 

But he was replaced. And when he hears how easy their laughter is, Langa has to admit to himself that it might be in more ways than one. His Reki hasn't laughed for him like this in … a while. 

\--------- 

Langa watches them leave. He should talk to Reki, he's well aware. It's Monday. Friday, there will be the new match at 'S' and right now he doesn't have a board. But somehow, he doesn't care about this anymore. Not right now, not at all. His gut burns with enough acid to melt him from the inside because there's something else he needs to voice much more urgently. It's just … Langa doesn't get a chance to do so. 

Because the nameless boy pulls Reki along, grinning and laughing and far away, further away from Langa than his Reki has ever been. It hurts. It hurts so fucking much, Langa isn't sure he can stay on his feet, let alone follow them. His legs are lead. Isn't he known for being able to fly? But someone broke Langa's wings off and he can't shake the feeling he is to be blamed. 

\----------- 

One foot in front of the other, stumbling slowly, uncoordinatedly, until he reaches the gates to the skate park. It makes no sense to come here. His board is a wreck and his Reki is gone and what exactly is Langa without those? An uncomfortable question he would rather not answer.

But where else is he supposed to go? Maybe Miya will be here. Or Shadow. Or Joe or Cherry or anyone else he can talk to, he can learn something from, maybe—Langa doesn't expect to see Reki. Not after he handed in his pin for 'S'. Three days ago it felt like a breakup when Langa learned that’s what he did. Now, though, when he sees Reki sitting on the corner of the half-pipe, legs dangling freely, it feels like betrayal. 

He didn't stop skating. He stopped skating with Langa. And he sacrificed 'S' for it, just so they absolutely don't have to run into one another. But Langa is here now! He's here and he sees his Reki sitting there, laughing, holding out his hands to someone … else. The beating in Langa's chest returns, but it’s different now. Painful. His airways constrict and the distant sensation of bile rising in his throat registers, but his brain has no capacity to listen to his body, not when the other guy stops his attempts on the board and stares. At Langa. Across the park. 

He says something to Reki and Reki, his Reki, turns but—the second he makes eye contact, Reki's head snaps back. As if he's been burned. As if just looking at Langa brings him so much pain, he can't deal with it. Or maybe he doesn't care. Maybe Reki moved on a long time ago, before he refused to go to 'S' for the first time. Because he had errands to run. 

Reki didn't have any errands. Langa asked their boss. 

Is this what breaking up feels like? They were never a couple. You can't break up with someone when you never dated. Right? Are friendship breakups a thing? They must be because Langa's chest is so painfully tight, he can't even sob. He can't do anything. Not even when the new guy curls his arm around Reki and guides him away. Out of sight. Out of reach. Langa can't speak, not even when Reki turnes his head, just a little bit, to catch a last glimpse of how pathetic Langa is without him. 

\----------- 

It's Thursday and Langa knows it's too late. Too late to speak with Reki. Too late to get his board fixed for 'S'. Too late to get a new one that feels kind of similar. It's too late for everything, but he can't bother to care about any of that except Reki himself. His Reki. No longer his Reki. Just Reki now. 

Joe told him they would be fine, but what does Joe know? His childhood friend is a murderous sociopath. Still, he's right in one aspect and one aspect only. Langa won't be able to solve this by sulking. If he stays away, it just means admitting defeat. And Langa hates losing. Especially because the stakes were never as high as right now. 

So he goes to Reki's house and he rings the doorbell and he smiles at Miss Kyan when she greets him with a surprised gasp of his name. "Is Reki here?" 

She gives him a strange look. Something he hasn't seen in her eyes before, but after a second, her face softens. "He's in the back. Working on a board." 

No. 

Right? 

No. 

It can't be. Reki wouldn't—not after they didn't talk for two weeks. But he was at 'S'! He watched Langa skate and he saw the board break and maybe, apparently, Reki's heart is bigger than Langa thought possible because—he opens the door to the garage, beaming at his best friend, when the object of his happiness startles, drops a screwdriver, and immediately curses under his breath. 

"Langa?! What are you doing here?" 

His heart is beating out of his chest. Langa's entire vision tunnels, clings to Reki and the new board, the beautiful, shiny, intricately detailed board on his workbench. "I wanted to talk to you. About …" Everything. But maybe that's a little much for the start, so Langa decides to go with the easiest target because the answer is simple. "My board." 

"Your board?" Wait. No. That's not Reki's voice. This is wrong. This is all wrong. Langa raises his eyes and there, perched on one of the containers they keep materials in, sits  _ him.  _ "What makes you think this is your board?" 

Langa opens his mouth, then closes it, opens it again, and gives up. There's no way he can talk right now. Do anything right now. 

Reki looks between them, then waves his hand. Dismissively. As if none of this is on his mind anymore. As if Langa can be banished from his life like a fly that dared to land on his shoulder. "He doesn't mean  _ this one. _ " Reki points at the new thing right there. Does it have a name, too? Is Reki part of that board's name as well? "He just wants his board fixed for 'S'. It broke, didn't it?" And now that Reki finally looks at him, Langa wishes he hadn't. 

His eyes used to glitter wherever he looked. But they are dull now shards of glass, sanded by the rough sea into hated, gray pebbles. Langa wants to see the light again. His heart is clenching once more, forcing his body to take a step back even though all he wants is to rush forward and hold Reki tight. His Reki. No longer his Reki. In the end, Langa nods. What else is he supposed to do after all?

"Huh." The guy hops off the containers and walks through the room, where his arm finds Reki's shoulder. It's a half-hug and just seeing it makes the acid return. "I thought you're such a pro athlete. But you can't pick a new board?" 

Langa reaches behind him, pulls out Reki-L2S, and stares at the two halves. "I don't want a new one. I want to fix this." He raises his eyes and hopes, prays, Reki understands this isn't about the skateboard alone. 

"Dude. It's gone. There's no way anyone can repair that." 

Reki keeps his eyes on Langa. There is … something. A flicker. Short-lived, but it's there and Langa clings to it with his entire heart. Reki doesn't disappoint him. "I can."

So Langa gasps. He tightens his grip around the wood. "Please." Eyes on Reki, he doesn't dare look away. Langa’s wanted this for so long. His heart beats out of his chest, but at least he can breathe a little bit right now. For the first time in two weeks. 

"Don't you have someone special who—" 

"Reki  _ IS  _ someone special!" Langa's head flies around and he stares down the asshole that dared insult his best friend. 

"Oh, I know, I know. I just … didn't have the feeling _you_ got that." 

Langa isn't a violent person. He isn't. But he's determined and sometimes, there's a larger overlap than he would like and right  _ now,  _ the ice this guy is standing on gets thinner by the minute. He almost growls, but Reki steps between them. He curls his fingers around the board. Lightly. Tenderly. "Let me check." 

It's harder to let go than Langa would like to admit, but … knowing Reki-L2S is in good hands helps. A lot. "Can you fix it?" 

"Reki." Langa might actually punch this dude if he intervenes once more. 

"Not until tomorrow." Reki hands him the board back, but Langa frowns and refuses to accept it. 

"Doesn't have to be until tomorrow. I … I know some things can't be fixed overnight." 

"You skate tomorrow." 

Langa shrugs. But magnetism draws him closer. He takes a step forward and their unwelcome guest hisses. But given the situation, Langa decides to ignore him entirely. If he's Reki's old friend, he probably doesn't mind another friend. If he's an ex, Langa doesn't care about him. Whatever he means to Reki, Langa will make it work if he has to. To keep his Reki happy. Just not right now. Right now, he has to apologize. "I don't want to skate without you." His heart clenches but it's true. Painful, but entirely factual.

There’s an incredulous laugh coming from somewhere to Reki’s side, and it takes every bit of strength Langa has not to bare his teeth. “Funny, you seemed to skate just fine the other day against that gorilla guy.”

Closing his eyes momentarily, Langa takes a breath. “Joe.”

“What?”

“The skater’s name, it’s Joe. He’s one of the founders of ‘S’ actually.” His tone is probably smug, bordering on arrogant, but seriously, what does this guy know?

“Yeah, Reki told me all about it.” His arm tightens around Reki’s shoulders. It brings that horrible taste back to Langa’s mouth.

Thankfully, his best friend shakes the arm off and takes a step forward. “Gimme the board. I can’t promise I’ll have it ready for tomorrow but …”

Langa smiles. “Thank you, Reki!”

“I’ll ask manager Oka or Shadow to deliver it since I don’t have a—”

“No!” Langa reaches out but stops just short of Reki’s arms. His touch is probably not welcome right now. “No,” he mumbles again, hands falling to the sides and closing into fists. “It’s gotta be you.”

“Why? I don’t have any business being there and anyway, it’s just a board, anyone can deliver it.” Reki shrugs, which doesn’t make any damn sense. Kyan Reki doesn’t want to be at S? It’s like the axis of Langa’s world is tilting upside down.

“No business there?” Disappointment colors his words. His hands relax. Is there even a point in fighting anymore? Maybe Langa should … ask this one final thing and then just disappears from Reki’s life. He has taken enough as is. When he looks up, Reki’s eyes are misty, and Langa’s heart clenches again. This is all his fault. But he came here to talk, to try and solve this, to take action like his mother told him to. So he’ll try. “I’ll skate … if you’re the one who brings me the board.”

Reki’s eyes grow like saucers, and they both ignore the single tear that falls down his cheek. “... What?”

“Dude—”

“If anyone else hands me that board,” Langa announces, raising his voice the slightest bit to cut Reki’s friend off, “I’m withdrawing from the tournament.”

“Langa—”

“See you tomorrow, Reki.”

He turns and leaves, heart in his throat. The image of Reki’s tears and that guy wrapping his arms around Reki— _ his _ Reki—forever burned into his retinas.

\----------

Langa doesn’t sleep that night. His mother keeps stealing glances at him during breakfast and lunch when he inevitably has to emerge from his room because, well, he’s a teenage boy. He needs sustenance to survive.

It seems to take her all day to gather the courage to confront him about the very obvious bags under his eyes. But she finally tries during dinner. “So.” His mother waits until he lifts his gaze from his bowl of rice. “You didn’t leave at all today.”

He would love to say it was because it was raining or something, but the sun beat down the entire day, not a cloud in sight. “Yeah.”

His mom squirms in her seat before speaking again. “How come? Didn’t you have to go to work?” He shakes his head. “Ah, so are you going out at night, then?” A nod. “Good, good!” Relief slips into her tone and she’s smiling when Langa looks up from his food. “Is that cute friend of yours coming to pick you up?”

Langa chokes on his fish. Since when does his mother call Reki cute?! “What?” His voice is strained, even after two glasses of water.

“Sorry, sorry!” She laughs, clearly not understanding the turmoil Langa is going through. “Didn’t mean to startle you like that, honey.” He nods, but the silence he craves doesn’t last for long. “So, is he picking you up or not?”

Putting down his chopsticks, he shakes his head and gets up to take the dishes to the sink. “Thank you for the food, mom. It was great.” His mother blinks, and he’s gone to his room to get his gloves and helmet. He hesitates but ends up grabbing the second white helmet anyway, his stupid heart holding on to some useless hope.

He is surprised to find his mother waiting at the entrance. Her eyes fall on the helmet in his hands. “I thought you said your friend wasn’t coming?”

“I’m … not sure, actually.”

“Is this the same person we talked about recently? The one who was avoiding you?” Ugh, why are mothers so perceptive? It’s unfair. Langa nods reluctantly. “So, you’ve tried patching things up?”

“Yeah, but now it’s up to … him.” She hums and walks up to Langa. Her hands are warm against his cheeks before she kisses one, loudly. “Mooom." His face is hot with embarrassment. He’s seventeen!

“For good luck! I’m sure he’ll come around!” She grabs his cheeks and squeezes. “Besides, who can resist this adorable face?”

The corners of his mouth tick up against his will. Maybe he isn’t as close to his mom as he was with his dad, but she still knows how to make him smile when he most needs it. “Thank you. I’m going now.”

“Take care, honey. Good luck!”

\----------

For unknown reasons, Langa takes an unnecessary detour and goes to check Reki’s window. He knows there’s no point. Reki hasn’t had a board with him for a few weeks now, but again, his stupid heart hopes. So, when he’s close enough, he kills the engine. If his friend is home, Langa doesn’t want him to know he came by.

But to his bitter disappointment, the light is on. A lump forms in his throat.

Langa doesn’t cry. At least, not often. The last time he did was at his father’s funeral. Since then, he’s been … an empty shell, incapable of shedding any more tears than he did that day. But now? It’s like he’s back under the rain all over again, whispering Reki’s name into the night in a futile attempt to make himself heard, to mend what he broke.

It’s a good thing he left with plenty of time because he wouldn’t be able to face whoever he’s supposed to go up against right now. The whole ‘Snow’ persona—that cool and collected skater everyone thinks he is—would crumble in front of all those faceless people in the crowd when they saw him falling apart on those giant screens.

\----------

By the time he makes it to the abandoned mine, the mask is back on.

People greet him at the gates, scream his ‘name’ and say they’re betting on him again. Langa nods but what he would love to tell them is that it’s all a big pile of bullshit. This whole thing, this charade, means nothing. The tournament, the beefs, the thrill … it’s ephemeral. He understands it now. But it’s still too late. 

Langa can't even remember who he's supposed to go up against today, not because he doesn't care but because  _ fuck _ , all of this is so empty. Just like he is. 

There was a time when 'S' meant something to him. Incidentally, the same time when Langa felt anything at all. It's been a while. Now, with Reki being so close and yet further away than ever, Langa feels things again. Just not anything he wants. For a while, when he started skating, the pain from falling was better than the numbness, but as it turned out, it was never the skating itself in the first place. It was Reki. And now Langa lost both and the pain stayed and he desperately wishes he could be numb again, but … there's no way out anymore. 

So he walks up to the start and … waits. Hopes against hope, but why? Reki is at home. He already knows that. And Langa meant what he said. He won't skate if someone else brings the board. 

“Snow!” One distinct voice reaches him while he waits before the starting line. Joe waves at the crowd as he walks up to Langa. His easy smile helps him focus a bit on the here and now, but the vicious grip around his heart remains. “Why the long face? Aren’t you excited?” Not knowing what to say, Langa shrugs. It gets a laugh out of Joe. “As cool as ever, huh, rookie? Don’t even have a board with you!”

Ah, it stings. The words carry no malice but they shoot through his chest nonetheless.

The silence stretches on. Langa doesn’t have an answer to that, not unless he wants to confess all his wrongdoings, aches, and pains. He looks up, opens his mouth, tries to think of what he could potentially say, when he’s blinded by a pair of headlights.

Raising his hands to cover his eyes, he waits with bated breath until the driver cuts the engine to lower his arms. The car is pink and has flowers painted all over it. Is this it? Did Reki ask Shadow to bring the board? Or is Reki in the car with him? Oh, shit. Langa's hands are shaking and his stomach is twisting. Why? Why did he challenge Reki like that? It was so unnecessary, making everything ten times more complicated.

Shadow approaches first. “Snow! Ready to lose today? Hahaha, you’re biting more than you can chew here, boy!”

Then Miya. “Langa, where’s Reki?”

The question hits him like a punch in the guts—one of Joe’s, to be more precise. He squats and hides his face in his hands, like a little boy. Like the broken boy who was stupid enough to drive away the only person who's been willing to stay by his side no matter what. Langa is such an idiot.  _ “Fuck.” _ It’s mumbled and in English, but it must’ve been clear enough because there’s a gasp somewhere near his head. Lifting his eyes, he finds Miya crouching next to him and staring.

“Did you just curse?”

What’s the point in lying? Langa sighs. “Yes.”

“In English?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it was necessary.”

Miya stands and eyes him as he remains in the same position. Langa feels tiny in comparison to him. So young yet so sure of what he wants. Unafraid. “Does it have anything to do with Reki not being here and you not having a board to skate with?” Langa nods and gets up. Miya draws nearer and whispers, “You’re withdrawing then, aren’t you?”

He stares. “How do you—”

“Please,” Miya says dismissively. “I’ve seen you skate before  _ and _ after getting that monstrosity. Only that golem would come up with an idea like that, and you’re only capable of doing those tricks because you skate like you snowboard.” He shrugs. “Sure, you’re fast and have good senses, but that can only carry you so far. At the end of the day, that board is what makes you ‘Snow’.”

Staring is the only thing he’s capable of at this point. He isn’t surprised. No. Langa knew all of that already. He's fully aware that Reki is—was—what made him who he is now. Looking around, at all these people cheering for him … empty. It’s all so shallow. They don’t know a damn thing.

“Come on.” Miya tugs at his sleeve. “You gotta tell Adam.” Ugh, fuck. Does he really have to interact? Langa would much rather go home and lock himself away. He looks down at Miya, who now has his hands in his hoodie’s pockets. He’s biting his bottom lip. “Or maybe, you could just wait a few minutes and just … stand there looking lost. I guess people will get the picture.”

Langa’s shoulders sag in relief. “I … yeah. I don’t have the energy to … deal with all of that.” He doesn’t mention any names but it’s not necessary. Miya smiles and stays by his side while the crowd gathers at the start.

Five minutes before the race, one of the capmen approaches them. “We start at midnight. Are you waiting for somebody?”

Technically, he is. But what’s the point in delaying the inevitable? Better to rip off the band-aid now. Let the gash bleed out for the world to see. “No. My board broke and I couldn’t get a replacement, so I’m withdrawing from the competition.”

Despite speaking quietly, Langa’s words reach the crowd, and the whispers spread like wildfire. Everyone already knows what’s going on even before Adam announces it, his speech filled with disappointment, wild gestures and theatrics.  _ “What kind of sportsman would I be to my beloved Eve if I didn’t offer my own board?” _

It works like a charm. Everyone is screaming at him to take their own. The variety is outstanding. From cheap to ridiculously expensive, scratched and patched up to brand new, monochrome to wild colors … Even Joe and Miya pull up their boards with ease, a silent question in their eyes. But they both know the answer already. None of them is his Reki-L2S. None of them is good enough.

The second beef starts, and Langa stays for a while longer. His friends’ commentary distracts him but not enough. Langa's mind retraces every step he took, every wrong decision, every fuck-up, like a movie on loop. Everything is clear now. Hindsight works wonders in these kinds of situations. But it’s too late. He needs to leave.

When the contestants on screen are about to enter the abandoned factory, Langa starts walking away. He takes the pin off of his collar as he weaves his way through the crowd. Maybe he should just turn it in. There’s nothing left for him here anyway—

“Oi, Snow!” Langa doesn’t stop. He doesn’t have time for any of this. “Oi, I’m talking to you!” The guy is breathless, so Langa hesitates. Eventually, he turns. And immediately he wishes he didn’t. 

There's this … guy. The one Langa stubbornly refuses to learn the name of. The one who began to hang off his Reki like a parasite the second he managed to return. Or maybe that's just Langa thinking about his own past with his best friend, things are getting blurry. In his mind. In the corners of his eyes. When his cheeks get wet, Langa realizes the haze across his vision disappeared. Oh holy fuck. Crying in front of the crowd isn't what he planned to do. Not on top of all the other bullshit. 

"Back off." He should probably at least try to be friendly, but Langa doesn't have the resources, not right now. 

"Nah, dude! I have to talk to you." 

"You really don't," Langa huffs and turns away. Fuck that guy. Langa had zero emotional capacity to be taunted now. Just because he thinks he's the hot shit, going to 'S' with his Reki now and—wait. His Reki! He stops in his tracks and turns to look at the guy. "Where is he?" 

"He's not here." Langa knows that. Technically, he knows. There was still light in Reki's room after all. But seeing  _ him  _ had evoked a certain hope and … urgh. He turns to leave once more. Why stay when nothing here is the same without Reki? Nothing makes sense anymore. "But that's not why I have to talk to you." 

Langa is walking again. He doesn't care what the dude thinks. After all, he has everything Langa longs for, so whatever it is he wants on top, fuck him. 

"Your board. I … I have your board." Oh. He stops. Reki-L2S? Why would he have Reki-L2S? Langa watches in astonishment, then worry, then anger as the imposter pulls out the soft-blue beauty. 

"Reki gave it to you?" 

"To deliver it." 

"But you didn't." Heat rises in Langa's chest. It's not embarrassment, not this time. His chest constricts, but it's not fear. Not right now. "Give me the board." 

"I will. In a moment. But listen—"

"No! You listen!" Langa is struggling to breathe but he refuses to back down. Not when it's about Reki. He can easily walk away from a million races, but this? No. "I don't know what you want from him! Or where you've been all this time! Or why you didn't care enough to contact him when he wasn't right next to you! I don't care! If—whatever is going on between you, I don't care! As long as he's happy … that's all I want! Okay? And if that means I can’t skate anymore … it's not the board! It's never been the board or the hill or the fame or the race! It's Reki! It has always been him and it will always be him! This …" he stabs the air in the direction of his board. "This is the most precious thing I own and it still means nothing if it's not from Reki! So—so—" He wants to bring his speech to an impactful end, but the numbness returns with a vengeance once all the other emotions have bled out of him and into the dirty pavement. "Keep it. Not for you! Bring it back to Reki. He … it's his. It'll always be his." Langa is close to sobbing now, which makes no sense because he's agitated and broken all at once. 

"He wanted you to have it." 

"Then he could have brought it to me." 

"He wanted to! Okay? He's … he's here." 

What? Langa begins to look around, head whipping left and right as he chases the one thing he cares about. His heart is beating up a storm, and at this point, he'll probably die when his body catches up to the millions of chemicals making up his emotions. But that hasn't happened yet, so Langa is still walking and as long as he's on his feet, he will try to find his Reki. Scratch that. He will crawl if he has to. 

He doesn't listen when the dude babbles on, at least not at that beginning, but eventually he grabs Langa's arm and spins him around, so he's forced to dedicate at least the absolute minimum attention to him. "Reki wanted you to have the board. He would have given it to you, but … he handed in his pin a while ago. He didn't want to ask for a new one or to just walk in here because he thought people don't want him—" 

"That's bullshit! Everyone wants him!" He isn't normally this loud. Langa isn't a violent person. But he's determined and sometimes, there's a larger overlap than he would like. 

"I tried to tell him people wouldn't mind, wouldn't  _ care _ , but that seemed to make it worse somehow and—"

"You told him people don't  _ care _ ?!" __

They look at each other, both mouth-breathing to try and contain their emotions. "He … he wanted you to have the board. Wanted you to skate because he knows you love it—" 

"I love  _ him _ !" Something breaks in Langa's chest. Something that’s restricted him for days, weeks, months now. He takes the first breath in forever, stares down, inspects his hands. As if this body is brand-new, as if he doesn't recognize himself. "I love him." This time, Langa whispers it, breathes his truth into the night air, before the impact shakes him up. Oh. He stares down at his knees, more covered in sand. It probably ruins his pants and his mom won't like that, but if she knew where he goes every weekend, the pants would be his smallest problem. Langa plants his palms in the dust. "I love him." 

"Fuck!" Above him, the guy curses. "Fuck, I really thought … listen, dude. I thought you were different."

"Everyone does." He laughs humorlessly, even though Langa doesn't understand what he means. They don't even know each other, really. 

"I … I thought you were an asshole. I thought you'd hurt him." 

"I did." This is about Reki, right? Yeah. Langa hurt him. Plenty. So it's fair. 

He shuffles, then kneels and … offers Langa his hand? "That's not … fuck. Okay. Uh. Reki sent me to bring you the board because he couldn't enter. He … I have a letter. He wanted you to skate. But … I … I wanted to protect him! You understand that, right? You love Reki! You just said it yourself. You understand! I … I wanted what's best for him. So I waited in the warehouse to tell you what you’ve missed out on once you arrived on someone else's board! But then you didn't. You … didn't skate. So I came here to talk to you and watch you go and walk away with the board he poured blood sweat and tears into, and now … now you tell me you love him and—" 

Langa raises his head halfway through the paper-thin explanation. "You have a letter?" His voice must waver between dangerous and hopeful, at least according to the dude's face. 

"A note, really. It's … it's nothing." 

"If it's from Reki, it's  _ everything _ ." Definitely dangerous now. He pulls out the letter and hands it to Langa. 

There, in Reki's adorable handwriting, are a few words only meant for him. Just for Langa, no one else, and he reads them too late. 

_ Go ahead and skate with the crazy geniuses. I support you. I will always support you. Even if that means  _

Something has been written, erased, and drawn over. Langa tries to decipher it, but he can't. 

_ I'll wait for you.  _

_ Reki _

He presses the letter to his chest. Yes. It doesn't say  _ much.  _ But it still says more than Langa deserves to hear. He looks up at the guy, swimming in some emotional cocktail he couldn't decipher with the help of twenty psychologists, and gives him a little smile. 

The same smile that caught Adam's interest. "Bring me to Reki." 

And yes, Langa heard he can be scary, but when the dude swallows before turning around and walking off, he ponders what he must look like now. He can't bring himself to care. All he cares about, all he wants now, is his Reki. Has always been his Reki. 

So he follows. His gaze jumps from person to person, still looking for that wild red mane among the sea of colors. But the guy leads him out the gates, where he stops and stands to the side.

Langa is buzzing with energy at the prospect of seeing Reki, of talking to him, of actually fixing things. There are people lingering outside, but he barely registers their presence. Langa’s tunnel vision is focusing on one thing and one thing only, so when he finally sees that hideous green, oversized jacket, he has to stop himself from not running towards his Reki.

His Reki, who is … hiding behind a tree. “Reki …” Langa’s voice is small, gets lost among the chatter and murmurs of those who try to get in but don’t have a pin or sticker. People are pointing, he knows. But they’re the furthest thing from Langa’s mind right now. He moves forward, steps on a branch that snaps, and Reki looks up, like a scared animal. “Reki!”

“W-what are you doing here? Why aren’t you skating?” His friend takes a step backward, but Langa’s had enough of all this back and forth, even if he’s to blame for most of it. He’s next to Reki in just a few strides. “What are you—”

“It was you.” Reki’s expression goes from scared to confused but he doesn’t stop Langa. “It’s … always been you.”

“Langa, what are you talking about? Did you hit your head or something?” Reki’s eyes roam his body. Instead of relishing the attention, though, Langa shrinks under his gaze. A few weeks ago, Reki’s hands would’ve been going over his arms and face, checking for injuries after a fall.

He swallows, gathering courage from his rapidly-dwindling reserves. This seemed simpler in theory a minute ago. “I, ah, I didn’t skate.”

But the second the words are out, Langa thinks it may have been the wrong thing to say. Reki’s eyes harden. “What?! I worked all day on that board!”

“But you didn’t deliver it, remember?”

“I didn’t have a pin!”

“I don’t care!” They’re both breathing hard, and the weight of everyone staring at them sits heavily on Langa’s shoulders, especially when Reki takes notice. “Wait.” He grabs Reki by the arm and walks down the path until the voices can’t reach them anymore, hiding behind a few trees to make sure their eyes or phones can’t either. “We should be good to talk here.”

Reki looks down at Langa’s hand on his wrist but doesn’t shake him off. A good sign. Hopefully. “Um, what do you mean you didn’t skate? I sent you the board. And a note.”

Should Langa tell Reki how his ‘friend’ screwed him over? Should he be the bigger person here? He shakes his head. “That’s not the point now. The board … it was always secondary.”

“To what?”

“To you!” Langa’s hands hold onto Reki’s shoulders. He  _ needs _ to get this off his chest, regardless of the outcome. Even if Reki doesn’t want him like that. “The board, the beefs, the rivals ... I didn’t—I  _ don’t _ —care about any of that! It’s always been you, Reki. You’re … the amazing one. The one who taught me, patiently, day after day. The one that made me laugh after so long, you … brought the light back into my life, Reki. Without you there, everything else ... the colors, the thrill … it all fades. You turned my dull, gray world upside down.”

Reki’s tears fall freely again, but this time his eyes … they are shining. Is it hope? Langa raises his hands, his thumbs wiping his friend’s cheeks. Reki’s voice is hoarse when he asks, “What are you saying, Langa?”

“What I’m trying to say is that …” Was that a crack just now? He doesn’t have time to worry about that, though. “It’s all meaningless without you there. I love you, Reki.”

A drop falls on his forearm. Is it raining? He doesn’t understand what’s happening until Reki’s hands come up to gently hold Langa’s face, returning the gesture. Reki gives him a small smile.  _ Thump, thump _ . How could Langa have ever misunderstood  _ who _ did that to him? “We’re a mess, do you know that?”

It gets a chuckle out of Langa. “Yeah, I know.”

They bask in the peacefulness for a second. Even if Reki hasn’t said anything yet, Langa is content for the first time in weeks. Like a huge weight’s been lifted off his shoulders. Until Reki swallows and frowns. Bad sign. Reki should always be smiling. “Langa, I … are you sure this is a good idea? I don't think you really want … this." It's unclear if he means a relationship, skateboarding or, the worst of all options, himself. 

“I meant what I said.” Langa steps forward, invading his friend’s personal space. “You’re brilliant.” He hesitates before kissing Reki’s forehead. The boy inhales sharply but doesn’t push him away yet. “Talented.” A kiss to his nose. “Patient, loyal.” Langa’s lips meet fresh, salty tears when they connect with the corners of Reki’s eyes. “Resilient and brave.” One kiss for each blotchy cheek. Then Langa aligns his mouth with Reki’s, giving him enough time to reject him. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

The kiss is short, Langa wanting to give Reki enough time to let the words sink in. But then there are fists clasped around the collar of his shirt and he’s pulled against his friend’s chest before a hot mouth clumsily kisses back.

Reki. Reki is kissing him back.

Langa buries one hand in Reki’s hair while the other travels down his back, reducing any remaining space between them. He angles his head, deepening the kiss and stopping Reki from biting off Langa’s tongue. “Sorry—” Reki whispers but Langa swallows his next words.

“Don’t be.” Reki is starting to get the hang of it, following Langa’s lead, copying the way Langa explores his mouth. “You’re perfect.”

And Reki laughs breathlessly. “You’re delirious.”

“I’m not, though.” Langa makes his way down Reki’s neck and when he reaches his ear, he adds, “I’ll show you just how incredible you are, how important you are to me, every single day, if you’ll let me?”

“Duuuude.” Ah, Langa missed Reki’s whines.

Reki blushing like this makes Langa smirk. “Whaaaat?” His best friend tries to hide against Langa’s shoulder. “No, no. No more running away.”

Reki mock-glares. “That’s rich. What about yesterday?”

“From now on. No more running away and more … talking about our feelings?”

“Okay.” Reki nods, and then his eyes drop to Langa’s lips.

_ Thump, thump _ . 

“Where were we?” Langa claims Reki’s mouth again. The knowledge that he can now do this whenever he wants is—Wait, can he? He moves back.

Reki’s eyes are lidded as he chases after Langa. “Where are you going?”

"Only ever where you can follow." It's sappy, but Langa means that. If Reki can't, won't return to 'S', then there's no reason for Langa to be there. "But I'm trying to give you room." 

"I don't need room. I need you. I’ve always needed you. I told you, Langa. I'm scared. And … not on my behalf. I don't care much about myself. But you … you're the best thing in my life. The one good thing that I found, all on my own. You're amazing and everyone can see it, but … that can be a curse, too. All I’ve ever wanted was to keep you safe. I'm not jealous, I'm …" He bites his lip and looks away, then mumbles … something. 

"What was that?" A louder mumble, but distinct roars from the crowd eat it up. So Langa cups his jaw and guides Reki back until they are eye to eye once more. "More communication. You promised." 

Reki is still chewing his lip, but he nods soon after. "I know. I'm trying. But what … what if I'm not good enough?" 

The thought alone is ridiculous. Kyan Reki not good enough? Laughable. So laughable that Langa, in fact, chuckles. The way his best friend looks at him thought … oh. That was a bad idea. "But you heard when I said you're perfect, yes? You heard that?" 

"I'm really not." 

"You really are." 

"I'm really not." 

"You really are." 

"I'm really not." 

"I love you." 

"I'm really n—wait. Langa!" Reki blushes and averts his eyes. He shuffles his feet across the fallen leaves, kicks a pebble, then looks back up. What Langa sees fills his heart with so much hope, he doesn't dare breathe. What if he shatters it? Reki cups his face. "I love you, too. You're an asshole. And if you get yourself into trouble like this again, I'll be seriously angry! But … I love you. And that's why I'm scared." 

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" 

Reki grins and looks away again. "Nah, I'm good." But his smirk widens and instead of taking Langa's hand, he's reaching all around him, pulling them tight. Reki buries his face against Langa's neck and inhales deeply, then presses a firm kiss to his jaw. "I'm good." 

**Author's Note:**

> > Thank you to our wonderful editor [Taedae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taedae/pseuds/Taedae), and to you as the reader.
>> 
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